


Maylor One-Shots

by qillerkueen



Category: Queen (Band)
Genre: Alcohol, Angst, Arguing, Cuddling & Snuggling, Drama, Drug Use, Fighting, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Implied Violence, Kissing, M/M, One-Shots, Smut, post-sex comfort
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-05
Updated: 2019-01-28
Packaged: 2019-10-05 01:35:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,144
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17315588
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/qillerkueen/pseuds/qillerkueen
Summary: a collection of brian may x roger taylor one-shots! smut, fluff, angst, etc!





	1. Angst to Fluff

“I don’t need you! I’m fine on my own!” Roger screamed with tears streaming down his face. “I can form my own fucking band- or better, be a solo artist!”

 

“Bullshit, Rog! You do need us- we’re a family! You can’t just leave us, not now,” Brian yelled back.

 

Brian and Roger had been dating for quite some years now, and like any other couple, they had their arguments. Sometimes it would get violent, but it only got as far as Roger throwing something. Brian never raised his hand to hit his boyfriend or to throw something, ever. But tonight was different. This argument was full of hurt behind the anger. Roger hadn’t gone violent.

The band was discussing what songs would go on the album- which ones would be a single, what songs go on the b-side, all that crap. Roger had shown the band his song, and he had not received the comments he wanted.

 

“Fuck you, Brian. I don’t need you, or Freddie, or John or anybody! All I ever fucking wanted was to be seen as a good songwriter like you and Freddie are. Hell, even fucking John can write bangers! But I can’t. And the one fucking time I feel proud about a goddamn song I wrote, everyone fucking hates it,” Roger was breathing heavily. If it was possible, steam would be coming out of his ears.

 

“Roger, it’s just one silly song. You just have to agree that it’s not good enough for this particular album. Maybe if we all sit down and work on it-”

 

“No! No, we’re not going to fucking ‘sit down and work on it’, Brian! This is my fucking song! Nothing’s being changed. I spent two weeks writing the lyrics, and another week coming up with the fucking beat and tempo and all that bullshit!” Roger’s shoulders became less tense, “And for what? For my bandmates, my best friends, my boyfriend, to all shoot me down and tell me that my song is shit.”

 

The room got quiet. Brian stared at Roger, unsure of what to say. Roger sighed, walking over to a small table where a bottle of vodka sat. He grabbed it and opened it, taking a swig.

 

“I’m quitting, Brian,” He said.

 

“What? Roger, you can’t just quit over a song. That’s childish and immature.”

 

Roger took another long sip of the vodka, “Does it matter anymore? My talent is unappreciated. I’m the stupid blond who can’t write a song for shit. I’m the lousy drummer who used to sleep with someone new each night and can’t remember their names in the morning. People who don’t know me call me a player- but you guys...You guys think I’m a slut, don’t you?” He chuckled at himself, in both disbelief and realization.

 

“Roger, none of us think that you’re a slut-”

 

“Bullshit!” Roger turned to Brian, “I know you think I’m a whore, Brian. Freddie does, John does! You don’t need to say it for me to know it. So what? I’m the whorish and terrible songwriter, thanks.”

 

“Roger, please…” Brian started. He wasn’t sure what he was pleading for.

 

“I’ve had enough of this shit...I can’t do it anymore. You guys aren’t my family, you never were. You sure don’t fucking act like it. And Brian, you call yourself my boyfriend? Fucking act like it. Be on my side for once, yeah?” Roger walked over to him, inches apart from the taller man.

 

“Roger, you know I love you, truly,” Brian hadn’t noticed that he was crying.

 

“I don’t think you do. Every time we bicker, it’s always you three against me. No one is ever on my side,” Roger backed away.

 

“I’m so sorry, love...I’m so sorry that I never was on your side. I never thought about it- I’m so sorry, Roggie.”

 

“Don’t...Don’t call me Roggie, you know I hate it.”

 

Brian laughed softly, “Roggie…”

 

Roger rolled his eyes, “I’m serious!”

 

He walked over to the younger man, holding out his arms for a hug, “C’mere, Roggie.”

 

“I’m not hugging you.”

 

Brian engulfed Roger in a hug, squeezing him tightly, “Roger, you know I love you, right? No matter what arguments we have, I’ll always love you. I’m sorry I was never on your side, I’ll do that more often from here on out. I love you so, so much, my dear. My Roggie…”

 

“Bri…” Roger sighed, “I’m sorry for getting so upset, and threatening to leave the band. You know I would never…”

 

“I know, Rog. We’re a family, and families stick together. They have their ups and downs, but they’re still a family. Freddie and John love you.”

 

“I know...I’m sorry.”

 

“It’s alright, my love,” Brian let him go but took Roger’s hands in his own. “How about you and I go and talk to Fred and Deacy about your song, hm? Maybe they’ll consider putting it on the album, now that there’s two of us.”

 

“But don’t you hate it?”

 

“I never said I hate it, Rog. It’s just a bit weird.”

 

“It’s a-”

 

“Metaphor, I know.”

 

“And I didn’t write it about-”

 

“Your car, I know, love. So who did you really write it for?”

 

“You remember  Johnathan Harris?”

 

“The roadie? Him?”

 

Roger laughed, “Yeah! He said his car was the love of his life…”

 

“Hm...Interesting. But promise me you won’t leave me for your car?” Brian asked jokingly, but also with a serious tone.

 

“I won’t, Brian. How would that even work? I’m a bottom, remember?”

 

“Stickshift.”


	2. Smut - Angst- Fluff

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sex gone wrong

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> writing detailed smut makes me uncomfortable- so y'all will just have to settle for this vague smut. maybe in the future, i'll get more detailed. big oof

Roger lay on his back. He had never felt this much pleasure or ecstasy in his entire life. Brian was pounding into the younger man, pulling out moan after moan after  _ scream _ from him. Brian was groaning, Roger’s sweet voice edging him closer to orgasm. Brian was sweet to Roger but rough in bed. Who knew that such an innocent and kind guitarist could be so damn  _ dominant.  _ Roger was in pure bliss. 

 

Brian was touching Roger as he fucked the drummer, stroking him and sucking on his neck. Roger was pulling on Brian’s hair, which was a newly found kink of his. 

 

Brian was continuously hitting his lover’s prostate, furthering and increasing his pleasure. Roger began to see spots, his vision blurring, a sign for which he understood meant that he was nearing orgasm. 

 

Roger moaned, “ _ Bri, I’m so close..!”  _

 

Nodding in agreement, the guitarist let out a low growl, his thrusting getting faster and faster by the second. Roger tried to grip onto the bed sheets as he hit orgasm. His mouth opened, but no sound came out. He froze, his eyes wide with pleasure.

 

Roger passed out. His body was still on its own, except for the movement caused by Brian’s thrusting. He had his own orgasm, cumming inside the blond man. 

 

Brian slowed himself down, panting with his eyes closed. He shuddered and came down from his high, smiling. He regulated his breathing for a few moments and opened his eyes. The brunet opened his eyes and looked down, gasping in horror. 

 

Brian removed himself from inside Roger quickly, “Roger!” He screamed. He picked up the younger man, moving him to a sitting-up position. “Oh shit, oh Lord, oh my god  _ Roger _ !”

 

Brian panicked, unsure of what to do. He quickly got out of bed and slipped on a pair of boxers, not caring if they were his or Roger’s. He ran to the kitchen and grabbed a glass of water, ignoring the weird looks his roommates Freddie and John gave him. He ignored John as he asked the half-naked man what was wrong. 

 

He ran back into his room, spilling a bit of water and waving off Freddie’s curses and complaints. 

 

“ _ Shit shit shit!”  _ Brian cursed at himself as he got back on the bed, after placing the water down on the bedside table. He looked at Roger up and down, trying to come up with a plan. Roger seemed to be breathing normal, which relieved Brian a bit. 

 

Brian worked with impulse and improvisation, picking up Roger bridal-style and carefully but quickly carrying him into their bathroom, setting him down into the dry bathtub. Brian ran the water, making sure the temperature wasn’t boiling or freezing. He bit his lip as his eyes flickered back and forth between Roger and the faucet. 

 

Once he decided it was full enough, he turned off the water and grabbed a clean hand towel, getting it wet and then folding it and placing it on Roger’s forehead. Brian took one of the younger man’s hand and held it with both of his, running his right thumb over the top of it. Brian was kneeling next to the tub, not caring about the uncomfortableness of the hard tile flooring. 

 

A few moments later, Roger began to stir, blinking ever so slowly. 

 

“Bri?” He asked, turning his head. “Why am I in the tub? What happened?”

 

Brian gasped out, letting his dreaded tears fall, “I’m so sorry, my love. I don’t know- you passed out after orgasm and I freaked out, oh god I thought you were hurt, I thought I hurt you- I’m so sorry my love it’ll never happen again I’m so sorry-“

 

“Brian, you’re talking in a run on sentence,” Roger laughed, then coughed, setting more fear into his upset boyfriend. “I’m alright, it might’ve been overstimulation. It’s happened before.”

 

Brian let out a sob, “I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have been so rough.”

 

Roger tightened his grip on Brian’s hand, “It’s okay, I’m okay. I like it when you’re rough, babe.”

 

“But it wasn’t  _ safe-“ _

 

“I’m alright now, aren’t I?” Roger asked. Brian hesitated but nodded. “And you’re alright too.”

 

Brian nods. He knows they’re both alright, but he can’t help but feel guilty, “Still, I’m sorry, Rog. It won’t ever happen again. We need a safeword.”

 

“That sounds good. Have you any ideas?”

 

Brian thought for a moment, “How about we just used traffic lights- green for continue, yellow for slow down, and red for stop.”

 

Roger smiled, “That’s perfect, Bri.  _ You’re _ perfect.”

 

Brian chuckles at the compliment, “I’m hardly perfect…” He looks down. Roger removes his hand from Brian’s and lifts up the brunet’s face by his chin.

 

“You’re perfect to me, no matter what happened or what will happen.  _ I love you _ ,” He whispers the last part, but making sure his lover can still hear him.


	3. Angst to Fluff

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Roger reads?

Brian walked into the flat he shared with his boyfriend, his arms full of grocery bags. He maneuvers around the furniture on his way to the kitchen, bumping into the end tables and almost tripping on the carpet. He got to the kitchen counter and dropped the bags on it, sighing at the release of tension.

 

“Roger! Love, I’m home,” Brian called out. He waited to hear the rapid sound of bare feet against the floor, but there was silence. He raised an eyebrow, knowing Roger was home. His car was on the street outside their flat, and he knew the blond man had no plans to go out, for he was nursing a hangover from the previous night of partying.

 

Brian left the kitchen and headed to their bedroom, calling out his lover’s name again, “Roger? You here?” He walked down the small hallway and into their bedroom, but was startled at what he saw.

 

On the bed was Roger, with a cup of tea and a book, a sight Brian had never seen before. He was baffled. Roger, the sex-crazed, insane, smoking and drinking drummer with no sense of time- reading a book? And wearing glasses? Brian was slightly pleased that his boyfriend had taken up something other than partying.

 

Roger glanced up from his novel, giving a smile to Brian, but then went back to reading his book.

 

Brian moves out of the doorway and to their bed, sitting on Roger’s side next to him. Brian placed a sympathetic hand on the drummer’s knee.

 

“Rog, I don’t mean to alarm you, but that’s not alcohol or a cigarette in your hand,” Brian gulped, almost sarcastically, “It’s a book.” He whispered the last part.

 

Roger rolled his eyes at the comment, dramatically dropping the book onto his lap, “Gee, Bri. Thanks for telling me.”

 

“Roger, you never read. Up until now I only thought you could only read music sheets and alcohol labels,” Brian half-joked. Roger glared at him.

 

“I’ll have you know that I actually enjoy reading, thank you very much.”

 

“What’s the book even on?” Brian lifted it to read the title. “Is that an astrophysics book? Oh Lord- where’s Roger and what have you done with him?” Brian shot up and backed up a bit, obviously making fun of Roger.

 

The drummer took off his reading glasses and placed them carefully in their case, and carefully placed down his cup of tea. Then, he followed Brian’s actions of standing up. “Don’t make fun of me, Bri. It’s an interesting book. I just got bored of waiting for you.”

 

Brian glanced at the nightstand, seeing a full pack of cigarettes and a half full bottle of vodka that Roger always kept on his nightstand. The cigarettes were completely untouched, with the plastic wrap still on it.

 

Brian took a step towards his boyfriend, placing a hand on his forehead, “Are you sick or something?”

 

Roger rolled his eyes again and removed Brian’s hand, “No, I’m completely fine. I just wanted to read for a bit. There was nothing interesting on the telly and I’ve listened to all our collected records like a million times! I just got bored, is all. Why’s me reading such a hard concept to grasp, Mr. Astrophysics?” At this point, Roger was a bit offended at Brian’s confusion and surprise. He was just reading, it’s not like murder or anything. Sure, it was out of the ordinary, but the blond did pick up a book here an then.

 

“Rog, it’s just...I’ve never seen you read. Or have any interest in learning or a book.”

 

“So what? I’m just the pretty dumb blonde? Huh? Is that what I am? I went to university, Brian. I studied dentistry- and then biology. I graduated with a Bachelor of bloody Science degree! I’m just as educated as anyone! And the fact that I rarely read means nothing!” Roger was fuming. He was hurt. He knew Brian meant it as a joke, but his low self esteem brought up his anger.

 

“Roger, love, please calm down. I never meant to insult you,” Brian apologised. “It’s just...it’s surprising. Delightful, it really is. I’m glad you’re reading.”

 

Roger had calmed down a bit at Brian’s gentle town and apology, slowly accepting it. He sat back down on the bed and drank the rest of his tea, sighing.

 

Roger sighed and looked down at the floor, “Why don’t any of you think I’m intelligent?”

 

Brian’s eyes widened with sadness and sympathy, and he quickly took a seat next to his lover, “We all think you’re smart, Roger.” He tried to wrap an arm around the drummer, but was pushed off.

 

“I didn’t say smart, I said intelligent. They’re different. You don’t think I’m intelligent,” Roger mumbled, on the brink of tears.

 

Brian took Roger’s face in his hands and turned it so they made eye contact, “You are intelligent, Roger. You’re smart, you’re brilliant. You’re clever, my little minx, you are. And you’re so beautiful, love. You’re a beautiful, smart and amazing person. I’m sorry I never called you intelligent before, I didn’t think...”

 

The guitarist engulfed the blond in a tight hug, his eyes pressed shut. Roger let his emotions go, sobbing against Brian.

 

“I just want to feel equal. I want you to believe in me. I want people to know that I’m not just a party animal or dumb blonde,” He cried.

 

“You’re not either of those things, Rog. You’re so much more. You’re an artist, you write amazing songs. You’re so kind and fun and brave, you’re so amazing. You’re my Roger, love,” Brian whispered into his ear.

 

Roger smiled, forgetting all the angst that took over his mind. Brian loved him, and he loved Brian. They kissed, slow and sweet.

 

Brian pulled away first, a cheeky grin on his face.

 

Roger raised an eyebrow, “What’s that look for?”

 

Brian chuckled and shook his head, “I’m Rogah Taylah, and I read books!” He cackled.

 

Roger took a pillow and smacked his lover, “Oh, fuck you!”


	4. Fluff

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Close to intimacy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is almost smut but it’s NOT haha sorry

the two lovebirds sat together on the couch, fingers intertwined, the glow of the fireplace setting the mood—

 

actually, brian was on top of roger, the two mates heavily making out, letting out small noises here and there. it wasn’t as soft paced and romantic has you would think. they were working up to having sex, for they had only just gotten together a couple weeks ago and didn’t want to rush anything.

 

brian had roger’s right hand pinned on the arm of the sofa with his own right hand, while brian’s left was tangled in the blond locks of the younger man. roger’s left hand was fumbling with brian’s zipper. it was graceful, to say the least.

 

brian pulled their lips apart, and roger whined at the loss of contact. brian remove roger’s hand from his crotch and intertwined their fingers (finally).

 

“are you sure you want this, rog?” brian double-checked for the umpteenth time. “safe word is still the traffic light system; red for stop, yellow for slo-“

 

“-w down, green for go; yes brian, i know,” roger interrupted, chuckling. “i want this so much, bri. do you?”

 

“yes, oh god, yes. so much, roger. i love you so much, i’ve never wanted anything more in my life.”

 

roger smirked, “then say those six magical words, those seventeen letters.”

 

brian furrowed his eyebrows, confused. “isn’t it three words, eight letters? as in, i love you?”

 

“no, this one is different...if you don’t know it, you can’t have me,” roger teased.

 

“oh, don’t be so mean, rog! i have no clue on earth what it could be...” brian pondered all the options for a few moments, still unable to figure out what it could possibly be that the younger man was aiming for.

 

“bri, you really don’t know me if you can’t figure out this one,” roger nipped at his ear- “simple,” his neck- “sentence...” his bottom lip.

 

brian groaned in frustration, “i really don’t know, rog. can’t you just accept i love you?”

 

“mmm...nope,” the blond giggled. “want me to just tell you?”

 

“yes! oh please,” the enamored poodle pleaded. roger pushed brian off him and got off the couch. he pushed brian into a seated position and straddled him, wrapping his arms around the brunet’s neck.

 

roger bit his lip and leaned toward brian’s ear, “ _i’m in love with my car.”_


End file.
